


Spike

by idontshipiyatch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontshipiyatch/pseuds/idontshipiyatch
Summary: Jaw clenched as he helps you hop over to a bench, you fail to stifle a pained hiss when his fingers carefully brush against your knee after you’ve sat down. “Goshiki, go get a pack of ice,” he orders, and you worriedly glance at your boyfriend who unlike the others still hasn’t moved from his side of the net. “The ball hit your knee right?” Focusing back on Semi, you nod and bite your lip when he examines the already swelling area.
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	Spike

**Author's Note:**

> background setting to this is everyone is in university but the old shiratorizawa team meets up to play together every now and then + reader and Ushi live together

“I’m okay,” you assure instead letting out the curses banging against your teeth, hoping the white lie will help ease your boyfriend, but the colors that drained after the hit landed still refuse to go back to his face.

Turning to Tendō with a wince, you plead him with a look to help you, but the grin accompanying the dutiful salute he gives you tells you it’s going to have the opposite effect. You’d facepalm hearing the nonsense he babbles to Ushijima if pain didn’t monopolize your focus.

But your boyfriend pays even less attention than usual to the words thrown his way, gaze still frozen on you with a horrified look you understand but can’t wait to chase out the olive orbs.

Giving Semi a grateful smile when he helps you up, you accept his support and lean on him to avoid putting weight on your leg.

Jaw clenched as he helps you hop over to a bench, you fail to stifle a pained hiss when his fingers carefully brush against your knee after you’ve sat down. “Goshiki, go get a pack of ice,” he orders, and you worriedly glance at your boyfriend who unlike the others still hasn’t moved from his side of the net. “The ball hit your knee right?” Focusing back on Semi, you nod and bite your lip when he examines the already swelling area.

“How bad does it hurt?” he asks as Goshiki hurries back to you with ice and a towel. “It’s not that bad,” you carefully say, eyes drifting to Ōhira guiding their dazed teammate near you.

Semi gives you a dubious look as he wraps the towel around the pack, “On one to ten, how bad is it?” he insists, and you’re about to deflect the question with another approximate answer but he presses, although gently, the ice on your knee and you can’t stop a pained yelp.

“Like a four-ish?” you surrender, fingers clenched around the edge of the bench and Semi frowns. “The pain hasn’t fully kicked in yet, it’ll hurt more soon.” He sighs, and you can feel the nervous tap of his finger of his other hand resting on your calf. “We should get you to the hospital,” he declares.

One glance at you and his features harden before you can argue, “That’s not negotiable,” turning to his friend, he nudges him for help, “Ushijima, tell her.”

Despite the expectant looks drifting in his direction, Ushijima doesn’t say anything and simply crouches in front of you, arms open as he nods.

Eyeing the silent invitation, you wince, “I can wa-” you begin to protest, but your boyfriend gives you a stare that chills the words off your tongue so you gulp and awkwardly shuffles into his arms, a surprised noise tumbling down your lips when he stands back up.

Semi offers to drive and Ushijima gives him a short nod, following him out of the gym as you give your friends a thumbs up and a reassuring smile over your boyfriend’s shoulder because Goshiki looks more panicked than you are.

Turning your attention back to him after the door shuts behind you, you sigh at his expression. Blank on the surface, you know better and read what he keeps locked between tight lips. “Wakatoshi, I’m okay,” you say but he only glances at you and remains, to your dismay, quiet all the way to the hospital.

By the time the three of you are seated in the waiting room, you’re more annoyed about his silence than your swollen knee, which he keeps staring at from across the small room because, despite your protest, he refused to sit next to you.

He can’t see much under the ice pack Semi gently holds in place but it doesn’t deter him, and since he keeps avoiding your eyes, you assume it’s his way of dealing with the situation. Still, with the pain growing and your boyfriend acting distant, your nerves are starting to feel the tension. “I’m not even mad at him, what’s he sulking for,” you grumble, leaning your head on Semi’s shoulder.

“He’s probably mad at himself, you know him,” replies your friend and you exchange a slightly exasperated look before sighing at unison.

Your leg is propped up on his lap, and he carefully lifts the ice to take a look at your knee. “It’s getting pretty swollen,” he comments with a sympathetic wince, and you hum but close your eyes, missing the way Ushijima tenses up hearing the observation. Semi did warn you it would progressively hurt more and you’re starting to feel it.

“Do you want me to sleep over tonight?” Blinking at the question, you give him a curious look so he smiles. “Ushijima isn’t exactly the carer between the two of you and if he stays like that he’s not gonna be much help,” he says, unbothered by the fact his former-captain can clearly hear him.

Sighing, you glance at your boyfriend who’s now glaring at Semi, and you’d usually defend that Ushijima could handle it, but feeling guilty or not, he hasn’t given you much to make you feel like he’d do a good job. So you decide to indulge some pettiness because you’re in pain and as grateful as you are for Semi, the one who should be holding your hand right now is your boyfriend, but by the looks of it it’s not going to happen anytime soon.

“Yeah, why not, thanks, Semi,” you agree but Ushijima, at last, speaks up. “That won’t be necessary.”

You both look at him, irritated for you, and with dubious surprise for Semi.

“I can take care of her,” continues your boyfriend and you huff but don't comment, unwilling to start a fight to add to the mess of pain and stress already weighing on you.

A nurse calls you before they can argue about it, and you roll your eyes seeing Ushijima stop himself after he instinctively tries to give you a hand standing up.

He seems to be letting go of the guilt that once again shadowed his face when you had to explain what happened by the time you get the diagnosis, which to your relief only consists in wearing a brace, rest and ice once or twice per day for your knee over the next few weeks. But the pain is starting to fumble with your focus so you’re not sure he’s over putting himself in time out from you until he cradles you against his chest to carry you back to the car.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stay?” asks Semi after he parked in front of your building, and you’re half asleep, mind aching and fuzzy so for once Ushijima is in charge of the talking, “We’ll be fine.”

Mouth curving in a frown that holds traces of hesitancy, Semi sighs but relents, “Alright, call me if there’s anything you need help with.”

Ushijima nods before taking you back in his arms and a pained whine slips out at the motion when your knee brushes against the passenger seat so Semi calls out right before he closes the car door. “Ushijima, drop the stoicism already, please." Unfazed by the hard stare meeting his demand, he adds, “It was an accident and she knows it. She doesn’t need you acting cold on top of a knee injury.”

You mumble something that’s likely an agreement to Semi’s words, but neither can properly decipher it so they simply say goodbye, both eager to have you in bed for well-needed rest.

The pain has gotten worse and a wave of fatigue is determined to crush you because you’re completely out by the time Ushijima opens the door to your studio.

He’s even more careful than usual when he lowers you on the bed, and while he knows you would want him to stay, he’s still too hesitant to be near you. So he tucks you under the covers and leaves the room to crash on the couch for the night.

But his absence is noticed sooner than he would have expected because the ache in your knee wakes you a few hours later.

In what you would quickly realize was over trusting faith in your ability to handle the injury, you get out of bed, intent on heading to the kitchen for a glass of water and a painkiller, and fall after your second step sends a surge of pain spreading through your leg.

The noise must have alerted your boyfriend because the door bursts open to a panicked Ushijima and he looks both relieved and worried when he crouches next to you. “What happened?”

Your hands hover above your knee, torn between the urge to clutch it and the fear it’ll only make it hurt more. “I fell,” you groan as he helps you sit up and you let your head fall back against the mattress when he delicately extends your leg in front of you.

A pained hiss slips through at the motion and he mumbles an apology before finally meeting your eyes. You can tell he’s got something on the tip of his tongue, but you don’t give him the chance to speak first. “Why weren’t you in the room?” you ask, and a part of your brain is fully aware that there’s no need to be petty about it, but it’s a good distraction.

“I was sleeping on the couch,” he replies, attention focused on your knee to avert your eyes.

“Why?” you insist despite his obvious reluctance to continue down that road.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he sighs, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about what happened earlier or when you came home, but your response would be the same for both.

“Baby-” you start, but he interrupts you, “I dislocated your knee with one of my spikes, I don’t think baby is what you should be calling me right now.”

You tame an eye roll but can’t help giving him an annoyed stare, “So what? Want me to call you my knee dislocator?”

“If you want to,” he says and you’re not even surprised that there isn’t a flicker of humor in his tone.

Gently grabbing his wrist, you take his left hand into yours. “I don’t want to, Wakatoshi. What I want is for you to stop tiptoeing around me like I’m gonna break. You didn’t do it when we got together, don’t start now.” His eyes drift to your knee, and you sigh at the unspoken argument. “It was an accident, you know I got injured there just by carrying something heavy before, my knees aren’t exactly resistant.”

The look he gives you tells you the excuse isn’t nearly compelling enough so you carry on, “I’m not mad, Toshi. I’m tired and my freaking knee hurts so I don’t want you sleeping on the couch, I want you next to me." Pausing to meet his eyes, you give his hand a press. “Please.” His features soften at the plea. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” The hint of a smile curling his lips when he presses them on your forehead edges on apologetic, but that’s the last of guilt-fueled reluctance.

His hand is warm against your cheek after he slips it from your grasp, and you lean into it with a little sigh.

“You should get back to bed, I’ll go get you some ice.”

Nodding at the suggestion, you let him help you up but hold his hands before they can guide your shoulders back down. “I wanna get changed, can you give me my pajamas?”

He grabs the pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts that you wear at home and kneels between your legs to help you take off your jeans. Getting your knee through it is more painful this time than at the hospital, especially because of how swollen the joint is, but the process is over blessedly fast with Wakatoshi’s assistance.

You could handle your top on your own, but the familiar firm tenderness has regained its place in his touch, so you let him do it, pliant under his hands when he rapidly but gently strips you before guiding the oversized shirt onto your bare chest.

Glancing at the bottoms he’s holding, you see his pensive frown and guess what he’s about to say, “I’ll just sleep without it, it’d be a pain to put on anyways.” He nods with a tinge of amusement at the way your train of thoughts met and gives your uninjured knee a press before exiting the room.

He comes back with a tray in one hand and wrapped ice in the other, and the curiosity in your eyes shifts into fondness when you see the snack next to a glass of juice and a white pill. Your stomach agrees with your boyfriend’s considerate gesture and you exchange a smile before you take the dearly needed painkiller.

Patting the spot next to you after he’s done placing the ice on your knee, you grin when he lays down, attentive as he watches you eat until you playfully nag him to stop staring. He complies, but only half-heartedly because you feel his eyes on you every few seconds when they drift off from his screen.

You didn’t realize you were hungry until he brought you the sandwich and the little moans you let out as you down it to crumbs pull his lips into a smile he tries to hide behind his phone. Taking mercy on him, you don’t comment on it and instead dutifully drinks the juice before stretching your arms up.

He takes the tray off your lap and returns to the kitchen only to find you carefully putting your legs down when he comes back.

“What are you doing?” he asks with concerned curiosity when his eyes switch back and forth between your knee and the ice no longer resting on it.

You consider answering but decide to lure him into helping you before he can trap you in a hug on the bed because you know that if he puts his mind to it, he could very easily keep you there. So you keep your mouth shut and simply make grabby hands at him, hoping he’ll fall for it and a little grin pops up when he instinctively comes close to help you up.

Resting your hands on his chest to keep your balance, you beam up at him. “I’ll be right back, just gonna brush my teeth.” Unfazed by the cheerfulness meant to distract him, he gives you a dubious stare. “You fell because your knee hurt, you can skip brushing your teeth for tonight,” he deadpans, hands already moving to your hips to guide you back on the bed, but you keep your feet planted on the carpet, and you do it maybe a little too firmly because a hiss betrays you after you accidentally put weight on your injured leg.

“Y/n, bed now,” he insists, but you shake your head, “It won’t take long, c’mon, Toshi, you know I don’t like going to bed without brushing my teeth.” You see him consider the idea, so you add the final touch. “Please, baby.”

Sighing, he pulls you up against him and carries you to the bathroom, “You’re the baby right now,” he retorts in a muttered complaint so you press a kiss to his jaw. “‘m sorry,” you say, a little sheepish when he puts you down. “It’s fine, you always take care of me, it’s fair that it’s my turn.”

He keeps an arm around your waist so you can lean on him as you both brush your teeth, and you taste the lingering mint on his tongue when you steal him a kiss after he hoists you back up against him.

Stopping in the middle of the living room to reciprocate the attention, you loop your arms around his neck, lips parting to give him access, but your enthusiasm halts with a pained grunt after you clench your legs around his hips, accidentally putting pressure on your knee.

Immediately pulling back, guilt flashes on his face as you drop your forehead on his shoulder. “Right, knee, forgot about that,” you sigh, and you feel not quite a chuckle rumbling in his chest at the comment.

He climbs into bed with you, making sure not to bump into the ice you placed back on your knee, but he seems more relaxed when you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers together.

“You do know I’m not mad, right?” You’ve got a hunch he managed to get over the remorse, but something pushes you to confirm it, and to your relief, Wakatoshi gives you a little nod. “I know.” He shuffles closer to you, careful to mind his legs. “I’m sorry for how I reacted,” he sighs, but you easily accept the apology with a kiss. “You’re great at spiking, not so much at handling feelings,” you tease, a giggle bubbling up your throat when he takes revenge for the playful criticism with a kiss.

He doesn’t stop there though and it doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the comfortable lazy haze of your slow make out. It eases you back to sleep with little efforts, so you give him a drowsy grin before your lashes flutter shut, “Night, baby.”

There’s a fond smile etched on his lips when he walks back in the room after putting the now nearly melted ice back in the freezer, and he knows the guilt will flare up every time you flinch when you walk, every time he puts ice on your knee, every time he sees you wearing the brace. But he sneaks under the covers knowing you’d rather focus on joking about it than resent him, so he shrugs it off and pulls you close before joining you in the realm of dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩  
>   
> 📍 [where to find me](https://mooniv.carrd.co/)  
>   
> D.


End file.
